


Up In Arms

by thehotinpsychotic



Category: My Chemical Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehotinpsychotic/pseuds/thehotinpsychotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank has been waking up to his neighbor's alarm clock for two weeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up In Arms

Frank’s always been bad with confrontation. That’s why for a string of days in January, every morning, he gets woken up at specifically 6:30 each morning by his apartment neighbor’s alarm clock. Frank can hear the damned thing through the wall; his neighbor’s bedroom must be just on the other side. It annoys the hell out of him, and his ritual prayers before bed began to revolve around not being woken up.  Despite his pleas, he’s still awoken each time by the alarm’s insistent beeping. He swears that his neighbor uses the snooze button feature as well, which can cause the ringing to go on for as long as an hour and a half.

Frank’s sleeping schedule is bad enough as it is, but with this obstacle, it only deteriorates. Once he’s woken up, it’s hard to get back to sleep, so despite not having to be work until 10:30 a.m., he’s always up by 6:30. This makes him extra tired, which makes him have a nap, which makes it hard to sleep, and once he does finally fall asleep around one a.m.; it’s not for long, as the alarm wakes him up before he can get six hours in. It’s a vicious cycle, one that’s royally fucked his circadian rhythm.

It’s the fifteenth morning or so when Frank finally decides to confront the guy. The alarm had, of course, gone off at 6:30 a.m. originally, but now it’s 7:45, and the fucking machine is still beeping as strong as ever. Frank barely dresses from his sleepwear, merely tossing a robe over his shirt and underwear before storming over to the apartment, his blood now boiling.

He knocks on the door, to have no reply. Again Frank knocks, and again, no one opens up or even says anything. Sighing, he tries the knob, surprised to see it’s unlocked. Frank can only wonder who has the confidence- or perhaps naivety- to sleep in New York City with their front door unlocked. He debates quickly whether or not to go in, contemplating what to say as he steps inside the home.

The lights are off to the house, and Frank stumbles in the dark for a few moments before finding a switch. The switch reveals a dimly lit kitchen, cluttered to the point that Frank can barely recognize that it’s modeled very similarly to his. He figures the apartment layout is the same as well, and uses his knowledge of his own home to find the bedroom.

He knocks on the door once more, running a hand through his tangled hair. He opens the door, more annoyed than angry now.

The room is in even worse shape than the kitchen; clothes, papers, notebooks, and books lay everywhere practically, covering even the floor. Frank watches his step, careful not to step on anything as he makes his way over to the bed.

A man lay sleeping, his eyelashes dark and heavy over his eyes, hair soiled with bedhead, and his mouth open slightly. The man has dark features, his hair likely dyed to a jet black, contrasting wildly against his pale skin. Frank, suddenly realizing he has no idea what to do, shakes the stranger lightly to wake him.

“Mmmf,” the man whines.

“Get up,” Frank orders.

The man clutches a pillow, whining, “Mikey, not now.”

“Dude,” Frank urges. He shakes the man harder, continuing, “Come on, wake up.”

The man whaps Frank in the head with a pillow, sending Frank stumbling backwards. He falls to the floor, and is glad that he manages to not break or land on anything.

The crash is loud enough to get the man awake. He rolls over, struggling with a nearby outlet, then unplugging the alarm. He yawns, sitting up in bed, slowly turning to face Frank as he growls, “You better have a good fucking excu-”

The man makes eye contact with Frank, then bolting out of bed. “Who are you?”

Frank scoots backwards, stammering, “I… I um…” He notices that the man is wearing a light pink onesie, patterned with Hello Kitty heads, and Frank cannot hold back his laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” the man demands.

Frank chuckles, apologizing, “I’m sorry, it’s just…” he falls into another laughing spell, gasping, “Your pajamas! I can’t!”

The man blushes, his mouth agape. He retorts, “Well, I’m not the one in stranger’s bedrooms wearing a Supernatural shirt and little briefs.”

Now it’s Frank’s turn to blush, closing his robe wordlessly. He stands, brushing himself off.

“Stay back,” the man barks. “I have a boyfriend and he’s fucking huge, and he’ll kick your ass if you lay a finger on me.”

Frank rolls his eyes, stating, “I’m your next door neighbor, in apartment B-5.” Frank chuckles slightly, changing his footing and pointing at the now quiet alarm clock. “That damn alarm has been waking me up for the past two weeks.”

The man raises a brow. “How?”

“I can hear it through the wall,” Frank explains. “And it’s really been fucking with me, so if you could just… get a quieter one or something? Or set it for a different time?”

The man furrows his brows, nodding and replying, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll set it for a later time. Eleven a.m.?”

Frank’s eyes widen at the drastic change, but he agrees, “Sure, I’ll be up by then.” He turns around, leaving as he calls, “Thanks, sorry for barging in and everything.”

Frank’s almost out the front door when he hears, “Wait!” Turning around, he sees the man, way back in his bedroom. He rushes towards Frank, sticking out a hand. “I’m Gerard. It’s nice to meet you.”

Frank shakes it warily, replying, “Frank.”

“You’re… sorry if this is a bit direct but… you’re really cute,” Gerard admits, redness rising in his cheeks. “I know I don’t know you that well but, do you might want to hang out sometime?”

Frank grins widely, telling dryly, “What about your huge boyfriend? Won’t he get jealous?”

Gerard smiles back, retorting, “Well, luckily for me, imaginary beings don’t really have valid feelings, so…”

Frank giggles, deciding, “Anytime, yeah. Just drop by my apartment sometime.”

“Sounds good,” Gerard says. He gives Frank one more smile before returning to bed, Frank locking Gerard's front door on his way out. 


End file.
